


Captive Princess

by violatedwisdom



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: F/F, First Time, Laura probably looks like Jokaste, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 08:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11665800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violatedwisdom/pseuds/violatedwisdom
Summary: The first time of Laurent and Damen but both of them are girls.





	Captive Princess

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own this story. I took this scene out of the second book of the "Captive Prince" trilogy by C.S. Pakat and changed it so the protagonists would be female. I also somehow connected it with chapter 19.5 and some of my own passages, so it would make a better story. So of course, spoilers.
> 
> I think anyone not having read the Captive Prince trilogy yet can keep up with this short story (only having to know that Laura is quite distant, inexperienced (in contrast to Dana) and that the protagonists aren't supposed to be together in her viewpoint). You should definitely read the CP trilogy though.
> 
> So in this story, Laurent is named 'Dana', Damen is named 'Laura'.
> 
> (just kidding)
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy.

She caught Laura’s wrist, felt the fine bones, and the pulse, before Laura could rise from the bed.

Dana said, ‘Kiss me.’

Her voice was shaky with pleasure that she yearned to share. She felt the warm flush that suffused her own skin. She had pushed herself up, so that her body made a curve, the planes of her abdomen shifting. Laura’s gaze splayed out instinctively over her, then lifted to her own. She’d caught Laura’s wrist before, to hold her back from a blow, a knife strike. She held her now. She could feel the desperate urge for retreat. She could feel something else too, Laura keeping herself apart, as though, this act being finished, she had no template for what to do.

‘Kiss me’, she said again.

Dark-eyed, Laura was holding herself in place as though pushing herself past a barrier, the tension in Laura’s body still telegraphing flight, and Dana felt the shock with her whole body when Laura’s gaze dropped to her mouth.

Her own eyes fell closed as she realised that Laura was going to do this, and she held herself very still. Laura kissed with a slight parting of her lips, as though she was unconscious of what he was asking for, and Dana kissed her back carefully, dizzy with the idea that the kiss would deepen.

She drew back before it did, just far enough to watch Laura’s eyes come open. Her heart was pounding. For a moment, looking felt like kissing, an exchange in which the distinctions of intimacy blurred. She was leaning in slowly on the neck.

It was not what Laura had expected. She felt the slight shock of Laura’s surprise, and the way Laura held herself, as though confused as to why Dana wished to do this, but she felt the moment when surprise turned to something else. Dana allowed herself the minor delight of nuzzling. Laura’s pulse reached a little crescendo under her lips.

This time when she drew back, neither of them broke fully from the other. She lifted her other hand to brush Laura’s cheek, slid fingers into her hair – shifting rays of gold between her marvelling fingers. Then she took Laura’s head gently in her hands and delivered the kiss she’d longed to deliver, long, slow and deep. Laura’s mouth opened under her. She couldn’t stop the slow, spreading flush of heat she felt the touch of Laura’s tongue, the feel of her own, sliding into Laura’s mouth.

They were kissing. She felt it in her body, like a tremor she couldn’t still. She was shaken by the force of all she wanted, and she closed her eyes against it. She drew her hand down Laura’s body, felt the raised gathers of the dress, which only held close to her body by the laces in front of it. She herself was naked, while Laura was fully, untouchably clothed.

She lifted her fingers to the tie that closed Laura’s dress. She had been trained to do this, she knew every intricate fastening. A silver of opening widened, her fingers sliding up the fine line of Laura’s collarbone, revealing it. Laura’s skin was so pale that the veins in her neck were blue, stria in marble, and with silks and tents, shaded awnings and high-necked collars, its pristine fineness had been preserved even through a month on the march. Against it, her own skin, sun-darkened, seemed brown as a nut.

They were breathing in tandem. Laura was holding herself very still. When Dana pushed the dress open, Laura’s chest rose and fell under the white brassiere. Dana’s hands lingered at the hem of the loose garment, and then, softly, undressing her, then tugging it from Laura’s wrists where it had tangled.

Exposed, Laura’s nipples were hard and puckered, the first tangible evidence of desire, and Dana felt a wild surge of gratification. Her eyes lifted to Laura’s.

Laura said, ‘Did you think I was made of stone?’

She couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure she felt at that, said, ‘Nothing you don’t want.’

‘You think I don’t want it?’

Seeing the look in Laura’s eyes, Dana deliberately pushed her back onto the sheets.

They were gazing at one another. Laura was sprawled on her back, slightly mussed, one leg drawn up and pushed out slightly to one side, still wearing its immaculate boot. She wanted to slide her hands up Laura’s ribcage to her chest, press her wrists down into the mattress, take her mouth. She closed her eyes and called on a heroic effort of restraint. Opened them.

Lifting a hand idly to the exact place above her head where Dana might have pressed it, Laura gazed back at her through veiled lashes. ‘Like being on top, do you?’

‘Yes.’ Never more so than at this moment. To have Laura beneath her was heady. She couldn’t help drawing her hand down over Laura’s taut stomach, over the controlled rise and fall of Laura’s breath. She reached the faint line of hair, touched it with her fingertips. Her fingers were now resting on the place where the line disappeared under symmetrical lacing. She looked back up.

And found herself pushed backwards, sudden, unexpected impetus, and she sat between Laura’s legs, a little breathless. Laura had placed her boot against the curvature of Dana’s chest, the tip lightly touching her throat, and pushed. And she didn’t remove her boot from its position, she held Dana in place with it, the firm pressure of the ball of Laura’s foot a warning to stay back.

The flare of arousal he felt at that must have shown in her eyes.

Laura said, ‘Well?’

It was directive, not a warning: what Laura was waiting for suddenly made itself plain. Dana put her hand around Laura’s calf, the other on the heel of her boot, and pulled it off.  
As the boot hit the floor on the side of the bed, Laura drew beck her foot and replaced it with the other. It came off as deliberately as the first.

She could see the rise and fall of Laura’s breath, near her hipbone. Despite the cool tone, she was aware of the extent to which Laura was holding herself in place, allowing herself to be touched. Tension still glinted in Laura’s body, like the shine on a blade edge that would slice you open at the wrong touch.

She was suddenly shaky with everything she wanted. She felt dizzy with competing impulses. She wanted to be gentle. She wanted to tighten her grip. They were kissing again and Dana couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop the slow slide of her hands over Laura’s skin. There was an interval of touching, and Dana kissed her softer, sweeter. The edged seams and crisscrossings were distinct beneath her fingers. She pushed a finger between lacing and fabric, felt the slow draw of the lace, growing longer as she reached the vertex.

Needing it suddenly, Dana pushed away and down and Laura half-followed, hazily pushing up on one arm – uncertain, perhaps of the purpose of her detour – until the moment Dana curled her fingers and pulled the fabric down to mid-thigh, then further.

She tugged the pants down and off, smoothed her hand up Laura’s thigh, feeling it flex. Reaching the juncture between leg and hip, the thumbed it, feeling the pulse beat wildly under the very fine skin there. Dana let herself experience dizzily just how much she liked the idea of controlled Laura betraying herself in reaching climax by the movement of her mouth. She inclined to press a confession of her thoughts between her legs.

Laura had hitched up from the position on top of her opened dress, still warm of her body.

‘I am not going to reciprocate.’

Dana looked up. ‘What?’

Laura said, ‘I am not going to do that to you.’

‘And so?’

‘Do you want me to pleasure you with my mouth?’ said Laura, precisely. ‘Because I don’t plan to. If you are proceeding on the expectation of reciprocity, then you had best be forewarned that-‘

This was too convoluted for bed play. Dana listened, satisfied with herself that in all of this talking there was no actual objection, then simply applied her mouth.

For all her seeming experience, Laura reacted like an innocent to this pleasure. She let out a soft shocked sound, and her body re-formed around the place where Dana was giving her attention. Dana held Laura in place, hands to hips, and allowed herself to enjoy Laura’s slight, helpless shifts and pushes, the quality of her surprise, and the hard act of repression that followed, as Laura tried to even out her breathing.

She wanted it. She wanted every stifled response. She was aware of her own arousal, half forgotten, wetting the sheets below her. She moved up to the clit and circled her tongue in tightening circles, so well pleased with the experience that she lingered, caressing, then building up a rhythm of pressure.

Laura was, by far, the most controlled lover Dana had ever taken to bed. The head tossing and cries, the easy, open sounds of past lovers were in Laura a single tremble, or slight hitch of breath. And yet, Dana found herself primed to each reaction, the tension of her stomach, the faint trembling of her thighs. Dana could feel Laura’s cycle of reaction and repression beneath her, as impetus gathered, building in the lines of Laura’s body.

And felt it stymied. As rhythm built, Laura’s body locked down, her responses repressed. Looking up, she saw that Laura’s hands were fists in the sheets, her eyes closed, her head turned to one side. Laura, out on the shattered edge of pleasure, was holding herself back from climax by sheer force of her impossible will.

Dana drew off, pushed herself up to search Laura’s face. Her own body, fully primed, took up barely a quarter of her attention as Laura’s eyes came open.

After a long moment Laura said, with painful honesty, ‘I… find it difficult to let go of control.’

‘No kidding’, said Dana.

The sensation of a salty taste lingered on her lips, when she pushed a tongue to savour it, having Laura watch. For a heady heartbeat, Dana took in the sight of her, a body that was ever so slightly trembling by the shallow breaths she draw.

Her hands, having rested on her sides, ventured the way up, slowly, gently feeling the arch of her breast, whilst her lips found Laura’s. She kissed her slowly, seemingly having to push against a resistance, self-restrictions that Laura had set for herself. Her eyes fluttered to a sight of Laura, her eyebrows as if she was worrying. In Laura’s face, tension overlay something unexpectedly young and vulnerable. Dana’s heart felt exposed, outside of her chest.

“I’m not afraid of sex”, she muttered. She had her hands on Dana’s arms and she felt the heat of the touch. “It’s just…”, a glance up to her face, then she quickly looked away, cheeks blushing.

Longingly, she applied a hand to Laura’s neck, feeling how warm she was, and slowly reached down to kiss her again, deepening the kiss. She kissed her breathless and made sure, that Laura wasn’t occupied by any thoughts or presumptions, only by her own lips. A dizzy feeling rose as her body’s tension turned into relaxation and Laura’s hips freely moved up to meet something, anything.

‘I want to touch you’, said Dana, breathlessly, with trailing fingers. ‘Can you let me?’

The invitation met no resistance, only lips meeting hers again, as in an attempt to draw her closer, only longing for the seducing invitation.

It was then, when she slid her fingers down Laura’s body, hesitant, finding the slick warmth. When she established a rhythm, not wholly unrelated to the caresses of her tongue, little sounds of Laura escaped the kiss, only reminding Dana of the reality of her own yearning, hot in her abdomen.

Kisses were placed on her chin, eyes fluttered to her face again, which displayed the small signs of pleasure, alongside of her breath and, just quietly now and again, her voice. With empty lips, Laura opened her eyes to look back at Dana.

She could look nowhere but back at her, both of them with nothing between them, and Laura, allowing it. It was intensely private. Her ideas of what might happen in bed with Laura had not moved beyond an aching tenderness, which was only now finding physical expression. The reality of it was different; Laura was different. Dana had never thought that it could be like this, soft and quiet and acutely personal.

She felt Laura tighten around her finger, her hips in small, helpless movements and the sensation of a deeper feeling, rising up inside of her. She shuddered, curving her head back; her flushed face and the fall of her golden hair framing her.

Breathing was difficult, seeing this new and wholly sensate introduction of Laura: the tangled sound she made, newly, sweetly inarticulate, the flush on her cheeks, the averted twist of her head, sight and sound melded with the heat and the trembling under her fingers.

She had a sudden splintering image of how it might be, if this was a world where they had time. There would be no urgency and no end point, just a sweet string of days spent together, long, languorous love making where they could spend hours doing this.

In the course of a heartbeat, Laura was gripping to her arms tightly, waves of pleasure forming gasps and whimpers as Laura came beneath her.

Dana, who had not realized the rubbing motions she had made with her hips against the material of the bedsheet, was startled at first, when she felt her own orgasm arise. With a heavenly glimpse unto Laura, she came just a heartbeat after.


End file.
